


Banana Pancakes

by Negaini



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Fluff, Food Fights, Gen, I'm not sure how to tag it tbh, and maybe a tiny bit of sorikai, kh-worldsconnected, mostly just silly and Riku being dumb, paopu fruit are important okay, there's soriku if you squint, written for kh worlds connected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-27
Updated: 2016-08-27
Packaged: 2018-08-11 10:49:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7888348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Negaini/pseuds/Negaini





	Banana Pancakes

"I don't know what you're getting at, Sora," Riku said, crossing his arms over his chest. Somewhere to his left, Kairi snorted into a mug of coffee.  
"Yeah right! I can see right through your tough-guy attitude!" Sora pointed his fork at him, bits of pancake and whipped cream falling to the table with a wet _plop_. "You think that you can just run away to Lea every time you want to practice, instead of just asking me? What happened to being in this _together?_ "  
Riku glared at Sora from across their breakfast, a guilty flush starting to tease at the tops of his ears. He tucked a bruised wrist under the table. What did it matter to Sora if he practiced on his own, anyway? It wasn't as if he were hurting their team. Anything he did to better their chances at surviving whatever lay ahead should be rewarded, right?  
"Lea has different skills than us, Sora. He can come at me faster and harder with his chakrams than you can with a keyblade." Riku broke his stare to shove almost half a pancake into his mouth, crunching down on a piece of fruit inside. He didn't look up, even as Sora's fork clattered to his plate.  
"Sora–" Kairi started, her long-suffering groan was implied, though years of talking them down from spats had taught her that it was futile to even try. They’d been arguing all morning.  
"What, am not good enough for you, now?" he huffed, leaning back in his chair. "You don't think that I'm good with a keyblade, anymore?"  
"That's not what I said," Riku snapped, dropping his own fork down onto his plate, heedless of the loud clinking that meant that he was in danger of chipping Sora's mother's plate. Sora's fist clenched on the table, and Riku rather thought that he was attempting to call his keyblade so that he could smack him in the head. He didn't even have to look at Kairi to know that she was watching them with that frown that creased the skin between her eyes, the same way she did when they were six years old and arguing over who won a race, or a sword fight.  
"Then what?" Sora asked, leaning forward over the table, barely managing to keep his crown necklace dangling from his neck out of an overly-ambitious pile of whipped cream. "Why have you been so _weird_ since we got home?"  
"I'm not being weird!" Riku threw his arms out at his sides. "I'm trying to be responsible. I'm a Master now, I have to stay sharp."  
Almost immediately, Sora bolted up out of his seat, and Riku knew that that had been exactly the wrong thing to say.  
"Oh, because you're a Master," Sora narrowed his eyes.  
"Riku," came Kairi's voice, raising in pitch. Riku ignored her.  
"I am a Master," Riku rose to his feet, using his height difference to loom over Sora, who had gone pink in the face. "What, are you jealous?" he asked, halfway to calling Way to the Dawn into existence in his aching hand.  
Sora fish-mouthed, his flush spreading to the tips of his ears in a way that Riku ordinarily thought was kind of cute. He could see the wheels whirring in his head, a slew of angry retorts sifting through what little mental filter he possessed.  
Riku knew, logically, that Sora had never been anything but happy for him. He also knew that not earning the title of Master was not something that Sora was particularly angry about. He did, however, know that they had to talk about this, eventually.  
The only thing that Sora got out, though, was a frustrated, growled breath, before a spoonful of mashed pancake smacked into the side of his face.  
For a solid moment, nobody moved. Sora stayed facing Riku, his eyes widening to saucers, melted butter dripping from his eyelashes. A split second later, another, larger glob hit Riku in the temple. Eggs fell down under the hem of his T-shirt, and his jaw went slack. He and Sora locked eyes, both as silent and still as statues for long enough that Kairi had enough time to pick up an entire goopy pancake, holding it threateningly in her palm, arm pulled back to throw it as soon as one of them made a move.  
“You guys are such idiots!” she yelled, sounding furious, though Sora had sucked his lower lip into his mouth, trying very hard to tamper down on a sudden, hysterical laugh.  
Riku reached up and slowly scooped sludge from his hair, pulling a grin that felt too manic to be jovial, and quicker than one could blink, he flung it back at Kairi.  
She shrieked, tossing the loaded pancake back at Riku, who very nearly dodged it, only to have it hit him in the shoulder with a gross wet _smack._  
At that, Sora cracked, letting out a peal of laughter as he made a grab for his plate, sending sausages and egg flying at Kairi before she had a chance to block him.  
“I can’t believe you!” he shouted, ducking under the table to get out of the way of Riku flinging whipped cream at him with a spoon.  
Attempts at skirting away from Sora’s messy hands lead Kairi to bump directly into Riku, who laughed maliciously, and wrapped strong arms around her middle, heaving her into the air.  
“Get her!” he yelled, breathless.  
“Don’t you dare!” she screamed, probably waking houses three towns over. Sora pulled himself up from under the table, sticky fingers gripping the edge of the table to balance himself, when his legs threatened to give out at the sight of Kairi squirming and kicking. He tried to press his mouth into a firm line, but his lips wobbled, and before he’d even had a chance to pick anything up, he had to put his head down on the table, collapsed into giggles.  
“Sora!” Riku’s arms ached, and even though Kairi weighed almost nothing, she’d taken to trying to bite him, and that was getting kind-of annoying. “Hurry up!”  
Sora scrambled to not so much pile things onto the plate, as he just sort of tossed them in its general direction, hoping that they’d make it. Riku shifted on his feet as he began to question his decision to keep Kairi close to him, while Sora came at her with his collection of bits of toast and fried egg. In a last-ditch effort to get her back for starting a _food fight,_ he picked up a can of whipped cream, making eye contact with her, as if he were unafraid of whatever retribution she would dish out once Riku let go of her.  
“Don’t you– _Sora!_ ”  
“You started this,” Sora laughed, squeezing what was left of the can into his palm, not stopping until it sputtered and ran empty. He tossed it to the already-savaged floor, and stalked toward the two of them. Riku eyed the dripping cream, hoping that Sora’s aim hadn’t suddenly gotten worse in the couple of weeks since he’d last sparred with him.  
“For Sparta!” Sora crowed triumphantly, smacking Kairi full in the face, with enough force to splash a good bit of it back onto Riku.  
He let go of Kairi, who made a grab for Sora before he could even react, and wrestled him to the ground. Riku was never sure if she was just surprisingly strong for her size, or if Sora was just weak to her charms. Or just weak.  
A few minutes’ worth of maple-syrup shooting, and tickle fights slicked with melted butter found them all in a giggling heap on the floor.  
Riku was sure that Sora's mother was going to have a heart attack when she saw the state of her kitchen, but moving from the sticky tile floor would require jostling Sora from where his head was pillowed on Riku's stomach. Then, Kairi would have to move from where she was laying half-sprawled over Sora's legs, and. Not worth it.  
Chunks of fruit and half a sausage link fell out of Sora's hair as Riku carded his fingers through it, grimacing at the thought that his was in a similar state. There wasn't enough water on the whole island to wash it all out.  
“Are you two done being dumb, now?” Kairi asked, propping her head up with a cheek cradled in her palm, elbow braced against the floor. She still had whipped cream smudged on the side of her nose, and she seemed content to leave it there, like war paint.  
Sora turned his head to look at her, blue eyes cracking open, and a frown wrinkling his forehead. Riku felt his chest seize for half a heartbeat; he’d kind-of been hoping that they could put the whole thing behind them, and just never talk about it again.  
“We would’ve worked it out,” Sora grumbled, sounding more petulant than angry, much to Riku’s surprise. Kairi snorted, her eyes flicking to meet Riku’s, and then back to Sora. The look on his face must have been pretty comical to her, because she had to stifle a laugh into her palm. His face went hot, and he pressed the heels of his hands into his eye sockets, so that he wouldn’t have to see her judging him.  
“Yeah, right. After you broke each other’s faces, you mean.”  
“Hey, you started the actual fight,” Sora pouted, as if they hadn’t been seconds away from wrestling out their problems, anyway. Riku cleared his throat as if to speak, but no words came. He had a feeling that if he were to say anything in his own defense, they’d just wind up arguing again.  
“I worked so hard to cook for you guys,” he started, turning to lay flat on his back, so that he could shut his eyes again, seemingly at peace with the fact that he was filthy, and laying on the floor of a disgracefully messy kitchen. “You didn’t have to start a food fight.”  
“Did too,” Kairi retorted, tucking tangled red hair behind her ear. “I love you stupid boys too much not to.”  
Riku’s lips twitched up into a tiny smile. Much to his surprise, Sora reached up to take ahold of his wrist, their skin tacking together unpleasantly. For a moment, Riku thought that he might link their fingers together. It wouldn’t have been the first time by a long shot, but his breathing hitched, all the same.  
“Y’know why I always put fruit in pancakes?” Sora asked idly, twisting to look up at Riku, who had cautiously started playing with his hair, again. Kairi laughed.  
“Because, and I quote, ‘normal pancakes are sad and boring.’” she said, pitching her voice in a startlingly good impression of Sora’s voice. Sora screwed up his face, and flicked her in the arm.  
“No. Well, yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about.” Sora sighed, puffing his cheeks out to make a face at her. “I put _paopu fruit_ in them, Riku,” he explained, like it was supposed to be obvious.  
“What? Because you’re a local to Destiny Islands, and crave it when you’re gone?” he mumbled, though he had a feeling that he knew what Sora was getting at. Sora rolled his eyes, and pressed his chin into the soft tender flesh of Riku’s abs.  
“No, because we never got to share one when we were kids, before you got sucked up in the darkness, and all.” Sora picked up a piece of mushy fruit, and flicked it at Riku’s face. “Now we’ve shared at least a dozen together, I figure, so the three of us should be set, y’know? For life. You’re stuck with us, even if you do have super important business to take care of, _Master_ Riku.”  
Riku leaned his head back against the cold tile floor, and shut his eyes. _Sora is so dumb,_ he thought, though his eyes threatened to water, anyway. He should have just talked to his friends like a normal person, instead of gallivanting off with a guy who used to be the enemy. He should have been a _friend_ to his friends.  
“You use bananas, too,” Kairi said, and startling a laugh out of Riku. Sora grumbled as his head was jostled, but smiled anyway. Kairi met Riku’s eyes, and gave him a grin that said that yes, he had been an idiot, but what else is new?  
Riku smiled, and swiped at his eyes, before Sora could see.  
“And strawberries,” he added, much to Sora’s chagrin.  
“You guys are the worst!” Sora cried, though his face had split into a wide grin.  
“Yeah, I know,” Riku said, tugging at a lock of brown hair. “But you’re stuck with us, remember?”


End file.
